


Playback

by rainydayadvocate



Category: Original Work
Genre: Chocolate Box Exchange 2018, Dieselpunk, F/M, Magic, Night Club Owners, Pilots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 17:27:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13663818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainydayadvocate/pseuds/rainydayadvocate
Summary: Nicia is the leader of a Rebellion attempting to disable the Barish, an aristocratic group of people who rule by taking away the rights of most of the people. Nicia's favorite informant is Kade—a nightclub owner who gets information from his clientele. What Nicia doesn't know is Kade is also a Barish, and she has to decide if she can trust that he is genuinely on her side. Set in a nondescript Dieselpunk world.





	Playback

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chocolatepot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chocolatepot/gifts).



Nicia was, surprisingly, early as she brought her prop plane in for a landing at Bayside Point's air field. No radio message greeted her or guided her in for the landing, but that was normal. Thursdays were the one night a week she could count on the airfield being silent. And that made it her night to come in for intel.

In front of the main control building, dark except for a single lamp left on every night, Nicia brought her plane around and shut down the engines. She hopped from the cockpit and landed easily on on the dirt runway. She took a couple of skips back to the plane's tail and punched at the hull underneath the plane's name— _The Rebel Cause_ —which exposed a compartment. She snatched her rucksack and slammed the hidden compartment closed again.

The propellers slowed to a halt and fell to silence while she walked up to the control building. It was always locked, but no one seemed to notice, or care, that with a enough movement back and forth, the lock would fall out of its glide and let any visitors in.

Once inside, Nicia took a deep breath and stretched her arms. It was a two-hour plane ride into Bayside Point from Fort Cedar, and it always caused a crick in her neck. Twisting her neck from side to side, she found the pressure point and popped her neck with a satisfied moan. Now she was ready for an evening of intel, intrigue, and dancing.

Unfortunately, this was not where the party was getting started. The control room left plenty to be desired. A couple of large radio units sat on a ply wood and saw horse table. The phone was probably secondhand, and its cord had frayed in multiple places. A microphone with wires that led up the wall and out to the roof, probably to the megaphone, sat on the table also. A desk fan ran in the corner on top of a file cabinet, and judging by its dust accumulation, it had probably been running for about three years without a break. On the far window sill sat a beat up record player, though no records were in sight. Beyond the rickety equipment and the makeshift tables, the only other things in the room were a couple of metal chairs and dust. Dust was the overall aesthetic. Not that most air fields were particularly worried about their dust accumulation, but a broom would do wonders.

Still, it was a good enough place to change out of her flying gear and into more appropriate attire for meeting Kade. Kade was her favorite informant. While they had plenty of spies who brought valuable information into Fort Cedar, Kade's insider perspective had brought them every major win, every major step forward towards a victory against the Barish—The West's aristocracy. He was also the only informant they had who rubbed elbows with these aristocrats in Bayside Point, seeing as he was the owner of The Stalking Leopard. His nightclub drew exactly the people Nicia needed to take down, and he was willing to share the dirt. Meeting with Kade was well worth the hassle of flying out once a week onto a dark, unlit runway.

The far back corner of the control room had a half-sized door, leading into a storage closet. It wasn't used much, since most people weren't slim enough to fit through the skinny door. She squeezed in there, yanking her rucksack behind her. Sure, there was no one around and she could have changed in the main room, but the storage closet was less dusty. As she lifted her goggles off the top of her head and onto a shelf, she also untied the ribbon holding her braid in place. The plaits worked themselves out into loose waves while she removed her leather jacket, flying trousers, and white blouse. Her boots she removed with all the grace of a camel walking on ice.

Extricated from her flying gear, Nicia opened her rucksack and retrieved her best slinky dress. That probably doesn't say much for the dress, since she had no problem sticking it in a rucksack, but she thought it looked good on her. She slipped it up and placed the straps on her shoulders before zipping it—a process that took four different positions and plenty of arm contortion. She smoothed down the worst of the wrinkles and smiled at the fabric. The dress was a midnight blue. A trail of dark blue sequins began at the bottom of the dress and wove up around her hips where the sequin color shifted to silver around her chest and shoulders. She rarely got to show off her figure, and she enjoyed nights like tonight where she could.

From the main room came the scratch of a record and the soft tones of a jazzy number on a record player. Nicia poked her head around the corner of the doorframe and there stood Kade. He looked marvelous as always, wearing a gray three-piece suit (though the coat had already been hung on the back of a chair). One thumb was brushing along the inside of his suspenders. The other hand was busy occupying the empty record player with music. Kade was an Audimeme—a memory enchanter that could bring sounds and music out of the memories of inanimate objects. Musical instruments and music players worked best, and it allowed him to keep his club open after the musicians had gone home for the evening. The last whiffs of blue smoke left his hand and swirled around the player's amplifier; those wisps of magical smoke would keep the music playing for at least an hour or two. "Don't mind me," he said with a grin.

"We were supposed to meet at the club," Nicia said. She disappeared back into the closet long enough to toss her clothing into her bag. Once successfully jammed into her rucksack, she squeezed back out of the tiny closet. "If I'd known you were coming here, I wouldn't have put on this dress."

"Lies," Kade said, closing the gap. "You always put that dress on for me."

"I suppose I do."

"You do." He leaned in for a kiss, and Nicia returned it.

No one knew these intel trips included fraternizing. She'd never intended to be _that_ leader, who fell for the pretty face that gave her information. But she couldn't resist him. Not because of any extraordinary magic up his sleeve, but because Kade was everything she had always wanted. Smart, shrewd, passionate, and possessing the confidence to know he looked incredibly good in suspenders.

Nicia pulled back from his kiss, meeting his gaze and exchanging a quick smile. "I suppose I do. Let me finish the look, at least."

"What? With your goggles?"

For that comment, he earned having the goggles tossed at his face. He laughed and put them on top of his head while Nicia stepped into her heels, spread some rouge across her lips, and drew on a quick a cat eye liner. To finish it off, she retrieved a crystal rose barrette from her sack and hooked it into place over her ear. "There." She turned and laughed at the goggles, shaking her head.

He left them on his head as he approached her, his arms sliding comfortably around her waist. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was meeting you here. I know you like coming out to the club. But it is easier to talk out here."

"Yes. It is." Nicia rubbed his shoulders and straightened his vest. "I hope that means you have juicy news tonight, then?"

"I do." He reached into his back pocket and produced a leather notebook, closed with a snap. Nicia took it from him and flipped through the pages. Her name appeared multiple times, usually in reference to a military advance she led on the Barish. She was also mentioned in lists that looked like hit lists, most of the names surrounding hers crossed out, names she knew. On one such list, a skull and crossbones was drawn next to her name. She turned it to show Kade. "Charming."

"You do have a plethora of admirers."

She laughed and leaned her head against his shoulder, continuing to flip through the book. "Where did you get this?"

"General Nodell was in yesterday. He was a bit sloshed by the time he limped out and he didn't seem to notice the man who bumped into his side."

Nicia tssked at him, shaking her head. "Not just a club owner, but an amateur pickpocket. I am so proud. "

"You know I would do anything to make you proud," he said with a grin. He kissed her again, with such fervor Nicia almost believed it. "That's not all."

She tipped her chin up to look at him. "No?"

"No. Nish, the Enchanters, they've learned a new skill. A skill that wasn't supposed to be possible."

"What? What is it?" Most enchanters could only draw on the shadows of something that had come before. Many were like Kade, and had the ability to pull sound out of inanimate objects. Others could temporarily mend something that was broken—retrieve a message from a burned sheet of paper or temporarily fix a broken piece of furniture. Some could create taste and smell memories, considered fancy parlor tricks more than anything of importance. The truly powerful enchanters had the ability to create a memory of a deceased life; it wasn't so much bringing someone back from the dead as it was creating a shadowed copy of who they had been. Some liked it for the closure it gave them, but most often the ability was used to solve murders. It had both made murder investigations easier but also made the killers more creative and careful.

Kade stepped back and leaned on the table behind him. "They've found a way to manipulate people. Living people. Memories no longer need to belong to inanimate objects or places or dead bodies. Though draining on the spell caster, it's possible to force someone to exposed memories to you."

Nicia frowned and shook her head. "But what does that mean, then?"

"It means no one's memories, of anything, are safe anymore. No one with magic can mind-read, but forcing information out of you is a real possibility."

Nicia shook her head. "We can't fight this, not unless we can go toe-to-toe against the Barish. And how can we if—"

Kade broke her off with a kiss, an urgent kiss. Nicia was surprised, but wrapped her arms around his neck and slid in against him. His palm spread over the small of her back, his touch soft and comforting. A smile broke onto her lips as she deepened the kiss and pulled in closer to him.

They held the kiss for a few more seconds before Kade started to back them up closer to the record player. The song itself was slow but had a solid saxophone melody. The scratchiness of the invisible record only made it better. She took his hand, squeezing his shoulder with her free hand, and let them dance them around the tiny space.

Some days Nicia felt guilty for fraternizing with her informant. Yes, she knew it was a terrible idea, and yet these moments when Kade knew how to calm her, how to keep her balanced and in control, they made it worth it to her. If their rebellion had a chance to be successful, returning rights to the common folk, she had to be at her best. Kade allowed her to decompress, to find solace away from the militaristic energy of Fort Cedar. Here in these moments she wasn't the outlaw fighting against a much richer and more powerful force, she was just Nicia, who likes to put on flattering dresses and let this man dance with her.

By the time their dance slowed, the music had drained out of the record player. The smoke had dissipated, the few remaining traces playing a note here and a note there, like a music box that needs to be re-wound. Nicia had worked Kade's collar open and helped him abandon his vest. She stopped dancing and slid a hand against his chest and up to his shoulder.

She paused, her hand brushing against a series of welts. "What's that?"

"Hmn? Oh, nothing."

"Doesn't feel like nothing. Let me—"

Kade tugged on the bottom of his shirt to try and tighten up the collar, but Nicia was faster. She yanked his shirt and suspenders out off his shoulder. There, just beneath his shoulder and the end of his collar bone, was a small, and recent, black tattoo. It was about an inch and half in diameter, a circle on the outside, the letter B on the inside. The open spaces of the tattoo were filled with vine and leaf details. The emblem of the Barish. The symbol of an aristocrat.

"No..."

"Nish, hey, let me explain, please—"

"This is new. This is fresh. You _just_ joined them!"

Kade hesitated. "Yes. I mean, I was born into the aristocracy, but I was just recently accepted officially, yes."

All of the calm she'd felt for the last hour vanished in an instant. Panic pounded in her chest and she yanked herself away from him, shaking her head. "No. Why? I thought—don't you—"

"Yes! Nish, yes, of course I'm on the side of the Rebellion. I'm on your side." He reached out to her, but even his pouty hazel eyes weren't going to draw her back in. His hand almost touched her shoulder and she slapped it away.

"But then why did you—"

"I had to! I have to do this or lose my club. That's how this works." Kade tried to approach again, this time lightly brushing his fingers against hers. Nicia didn't resist it, but she wasn't sure she liked it. "Please understand, Nish. I'm with you. But I have to be with them, too. I was born one of them, I have my club, and it's not my only business venture. They expect me to be what they are, and it's how I help you. I can't get you strategy notes and hear about new magical discoveries if I'm not a part of this."

Nicia finally pulled her hand away from his. "I thought you simply got your information from eavesdropping at the club."

"I do sometimes. Other times I'm telling you things I heard in a meeting I was invited to."

She gave him her back. It was naive and stupid to think he wasn't an aristocrat. No, it made perfect sense that the Barish would only frequent a Barish-owned establishment. Nicia swallowed, but still couldn't bring herself to face him. "That does bring up another question, I suppose."

"Oh? And what is that?"

"If you're working for us and giving us information, does that go both ways?"

Nicia could feel Kade come closer, but she still jumped when he took her shoulders. He attempted to massage them, but the touch just tensed her up worse. To keep her mind off of it, she focused on the ratty hum of the fan in the corner. "They know I meet with you. We've been spotted in the club. I have to. But I'm careful about what I choose to share. I would never share anything that hurt you."

"You can't guarantee that."

"No. I suppose I can't. But I try." He hung behind her for what felt like an eternity. Instead of pulling away, like she expected him to do, he leaned in and kissed just behind her ear, skin exposed by the hair twisted into the barrette. She wished she wanted to shy away, but she didn't. She didn't know what this was with him, if it was serious in any way, but she did believe he was telling the truth. And that was enough for now.

She slowly turned back around, letting him kiss her, enjoying the kiss, enjoying how wrong it felt to be kissing an aristocrat. He pressed in against her and she couldn't help but moan. Leading a rebellion meant that, occasionally, it felt good to rebel in an completely unrelated way.

Nicia was able to relax again, and trust that whatever Kade had to give to the Barish, he did so with care. As she settled into that idea, he pulled back from their embrace. "And now, I really am sorry," he whispered against her ear.

He raised a hand and closed his eyes, his mouth moving though no sounds came from between his lips. After a few moments, the familiar blue smoke curled out from his fingers and began to surround her head.

The Barish hadn't just figured out a way to use their magic on living people. Kade knew how.

"No. Kade, please—"

But the enchantment was too close to complete, the smoke too foggy. As it engulfed her, the present faded away. Her mind returned her back to the counsel meeting she attended that morning, to the conversation of next moves and major concerns. "I don't think we can capture Cape Harbor before the end of the year. We don't have the support," she heard herself say, in her head and out loud. The conversation became solely internal as she relived what everyone else around her said in response. She shook her head and added, "I don't think it's worth the risk. We are better off waiting until we have a stronger base in the northern regions. Let's continue our guerrilla attacks on Bayside Point. We know our allies, we know where to avoid. It is our best shot at gaining traction in the next six months." The conversation faded back into a memory, and Nicia was able to refocus on Kade, who waved the remaining smoke away. "Well?" she asked at him.

"Well, it works. And you didn't say much in your meeting this morning."

"No, I did not."

"Good. Then I will report business as usual to my handler, without a shred of guilt."

That seemed to mark the end of the evening. While he could have simply asked Nicia to give him an update, he choose to invade her memories. Was it a power play, or a simple demonstration of the new abilities? She wasn't sure. And she wasn't sure if she wanted to look at him anymore tonight. He picked up on her mood and replaced his vest and coat. Nicia left her dress on, but changed out of the heels back into her flying boots.

"See you next week?" Kade asked from the door. He had stayed at a distance; he knew better than to ask for a goodnight kiss.

"Maybe," Nicia replied, truly not sure of her answer.

"Maybe?" he repeated.

"Maybe." She smiled at him and nodded. "I'll come to the Club if I do come next week. Good luck."

Kade smiled, just a slight upturn on his right side. "All right. Good luck to you, too."

He left, leaving Nicia to her thoughts. She knew this was a bad. She was too involved, and he was too involved, and they were playing a dangerous game. But when she imagined skipping her weekly visits, she had a hard time believing she would actually do it.

After Kade was long gone and her clothes all packed, Nicia realized she was missing her goggles—and that Kade had left wearing them. She gasped and flew the control room's door open, ready to run after Kade all the way to the club if she had to, but then she saw them. Dangling from the windsock pole, tied to the windsock itself, were her goggles. Rolled up inside of them was a small note that simply said: "See you next week."


End file.
